Tag Archives: Acupuncturist Monica Legatt

Recently this Winter I was honored to treat with acupuncture three different cast members from the touring Broadway musical Wicked. I absolutely love musical theatre, especially having a background in dance, so I was really excited when first one, and then two more members of the cast came to see me in my Seattle office for treatment.

Acupuncture is helpful for throat conditions and the vocal cords as well as respiratory conditions like bronchitis, sinusitis, and allergic rhinitis. I have worked with many touring singers through the years who were performing at The Paramount Theatre for conditions such as these because the combination of dampness and cold in our Seattle climate can cause them.

I just received this totally “wicked” testimonial: thanks so much P.H. !!

“I came through Seattle with the national tour of “Wicked” and immediately had a reaction to the climate change, developing bronchitis and acid reflux, which I have never suffered as a singer before. After going to more than one traditional ENTs and getting all kinds of prescription medication that actually made me feel worse, I turned to Monica, hoping that she could help me get back in the show. After just 2 treatments and taking the herbs she gave me, as well as following the diet guidelines she had suggested, I felt so much better, both physically and mentally. She was always there to answer any questions I had and to fit me into her schedule whenever she could. I continued to see Monica until I left Seattle, and every single visit was a calming, healing experience. She has changed my entire opinion of acupuncture and opened my mind to a whole new way of health and wellness. I’m just sad that she doesn’t live in New York, where I’m from!”

What does it feel like? People who’ve never had acupuncture fixate on the needles and getting poked by pointy things. For me, that’s not what treatment is about.

Let me take you through a session with Monica Legatt, a typical one for me.

Sitting in a quiet room I answer Monica’s questions about my symptoms. I stick out my tongue and waggle it around at her. She leaves while I settle onto the massage table and arrange my clothing so she’ll have access to the areas where she’s going to stimulate me. Currently that’s my feet, lower legs, belly, wrists, shoulders, and forehead.

A soft knock and Monica re-enters. I have my glasses off, so everything’s a blur, but I know from past visits that the needles she unwraps from crinkling envelopes are very, very fine–very nearly wires rather than needles.

Before each insertion she tells me where she’s placing the next needle and why. Most of the time my level of discomfort is roughly the same as if I were plucking a hair from my eyebrows. Often Monica makes small adjustments in a needle to ensure it’s doing what needs to be done.

The result is a bit hard to describe: It’s like that pull and click when a magnet clings to a refrigerator door. Like getting a dance step right. Even though I’m not moving.

Occasionally Monica warns me I’m going to experience something more due to a particular needle’s insertion. “This is a strong point,” she’ll say, or “This could be pretty hot,” or “This is probably going to be kind of shocky.” She’s usually right. My reaction to a “strong” stimulation can take the form of a not-unpleasant sort of flutter in my muscles or a slight cramp. “Hot” is the right word for the way that a hot stimulation feels. My least favorite is “shocky,” which can range from a mild tingle to–once–a wild buzz I yelped out loud at.

Within seconds, all this mutes to the barest whispers of sensation. Monica leaves me alone on the table for a timeless time of meditation and fizzing light. I honestly can’t say how long this part of a treatment session lasts. I should be able to, because acupuncture appointments are scheduled, and when they end I check my watch to figure out which bus to catch. Got to be less than an hour.

I lie still enough not to disturb the needles. I lie comfortably, dreaming yet awake. If I keep my eyes open I may see haloes of color emanating from objects on the ceiling. If I close them it’s to concentrate on pulses of–pleasure’s too loaded a word. “Pulses of relaxation” comes closer to what I’m trying to say. But that implies passivity…pulses of well-being? Whatever they are, Ilike them a lot.

I’m never bored.

This, for me, is the core, the essence of how acupuncture feels.

After a while, Monica comes to check on how I’m doing. So far I’ve always been fine, but I appreciate her attentiveness. Eventually she returns once more, removes the needles, and leaves me again to slowly return to verticality. At the front desk I pick up prescribed herbs to reinforce her treatments between sessions.

In the introduction to the punk classic by X-Ray Spex, “Let’s Submerge,” lead singer Poly Styrene invites listeners to get into our little bubbles and “gently drift down…” That’s what acupuncture does for me: provides a restorative respite from everyday life’s noisy anthem. I float down, then rise up refreshed, ready to sing. Loud.